re:Coma
by ArtisticTrash
Summary: The rewrite/continuation of the story Coma by SmarticleParticle. The original summary of the story: The Task Force's plan to fake Matsuda's death goes horribly wrong and he actually dies. Or does he? Why has he woken up in a strange, freezing room? And why can he smell vodka...?
1. Prologue: White Noise

Once again, I don't own the plot of the story from the 4th chapter on. The first few chapters are rewrites and the rest is a continuation based on what I believe the story could be. Send love to the original writer, SmarticleParticle, who gave me permission to write this story and post it. I loved the concept; it's so interesting and neat nothing like I've ever read.

Thank you, SmarticleParticle for letting me do this xx!

Disclaimer, this will be rather long and, I guess, slow burn. It's not finished yet but I do have the ending and everything planned out. All I need to do is write it.

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Prologue: White Noise

Matsuda forces himself to slow as he takes heavy sluggish steps down the dark hallway. The lack of any lights hides his current emotions of pronounced fear and slight determination. What more would you expect from a man intent on killing himself? But it isn't really his death that Matsuda is scared of; rather, it's the death of a character he was meant to follow. All because he didn't listen and went against orders—again. The disappointment in himself is greater than that of his coworkers he's for sure of.

Matsuda stands in front of a plain white door. He listens to the noise of the next room while waiting for the perfect moment to burst through. The men inside seem to be thoroughly entertained. At least Misa-Misa is doing a good job. Now, all that he has to do is play his part. Matsuda takes a deep breath in and builds some tension in his conflicted chest. He lets it out right as he kicks the door open with his right foot. The noise definitely gets the attention of everyone and their chatter ceases. A few of the men go to hold and protect the girls from any onset of danger. Matsuda forces a giggle and places the cheery mask of the Taro Matsui over his own personality.

"Man, I'm so drunk." He isn't sure if it's enough to convince the Yotsuba members but he continues. "I feel so good!"

Matsuda takes slower clumsy, steps like he's making an attempt to not trip or fall in front of everyone. His stumbles and waving arms have him fully taking on the look of a drunken man.

"Hey everyone, are you all having fun? You should be," he shouts happily to the quiet room.

Everyone's eyes are trained on him. All are wondering what he's going to do as he makes his way across the room to the balcony and opening the sliding glass door. He nearly shivers at the breeze from the surprisingly cold night.

"Now everyone, this is what you've been waiting for! It's the Matsui Taro show time!"

He smiles largely and laughs more as he holds out his arms similar to a T.V. show host or an over-enthusiastic announcer. He can hear the noise from the city: cars honking and driving in some light traffic, sirens from police and ambulances, and voices from the ground that turn into a garbled mess from the distance. Curious gasps are pulled from the people who watch him nervously. He thinks vaguely if the girls know something isn't quite right yet.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" One of the men calls out as they watch Matsui turns to climb on top of the concrete railing that's at the very edge of the balcony.

"Yay! Go for it, Matsui-san!" Misa-Misa encourages as she happily runs into the room. Her attitude contrasts greatly with everyone else.

"Whoo-ahh!" Matsuda forces himself to think of other things as he finally stands atop the railing. He tries to rid himself of the shaking in his legs by taking a few steps to test out the room he has.

A few of the men stand to try and stop him.

"Hey! That's dangerous! You're drunk!" The man known as Shimura Suguru says nervously as he walks over to the terrace.

"Its fine, I do this all the time…" Matsui trails off while he places his hands down on the railing.

He tests his hold on the cool surface and realizes just how much he's sweating. He kicks up his legs and holds the position while ignoring the feeling in his palms. From there, he performs a nearly flawless handstand. More people stand and most of the girls cry out of fear in response to his dangerous actions. Matsuda's acting does an excellent job and everyone unknown of the current situation believes wholeheartedly that he is going to get himself killed. Deep down, Matsuda feels that might actually die too.

"Cut it out!"

"That's dangerous, you idiot!"

"I'm… fine…" He whispers softly. He holds his position with a bit of strain and tremors in his arms. He doesn't dismiss the concerned house guests.

Matsuda opens his eyes to gaze at the railing and visible ground below. He can feel his heart trying to leap out of his chest and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It's the same feeling when he rides roller coasters, except now, everything has become too real. The potential risk of death looms over his head and places more doubt within the young man's head. His hands twitch more but not because of strain. Matsuda could miss the mattress placed below to catch him or he could just roll off of it. He begins to terrify his mind from everything that could go wrong and before Matsuda can properly fake falling, he truly does.

His right arm gives in, throwing him off balance. The sweat on his hands causes him to slip and propel his body over the edge. He can hear the screams from everyone above mix into a bone-chilling melody. The momentum has Matsuda spinning in the air so that he turns just in time to see himself miss of the hidden mattress. The pained, wide-eyed look from Soichiro permanently scorches itself into Matsuda's memory. The older man's lips move as he says something but the wind whistling past his ears obscures it. He meets the ground before his mind can register the feeling his body receives. It's numbing, at first, and then the pain hits him like a tidal wave.

Matsuda can barely hold onto the world around him as he tries to take in a breath of air to replenish what was knocked out of him, though his chest only burns more. It feels as if his entire body is on fire. His mind falls into shock yet the feeling of torn muscles and broken bones is very evident. Matsuda isn't even sure if he's crying or not but he does hear Wedy as she runs over to him. She was supposed to call for a fake ambulance but now she's doing it for real.

"Aw, shit… kid."

Matsuda manages to catch a glimpse of her concerned face before he succumbs to the darkness. The woman's dark shaded sunglasses gone from her face and her eyes shine bright—too bright. The street lamps and stars get even brighter and combine to white out his vision. A terribly cold chill bites at his remaining sense. A breath leaves his lips along with all the strength in his body and mind. Matsuda believes that it's his last. Finally, his eyes flutter shut, blocking out the ugly white, the rest of his body goes limp.


	2. Chapter 1: The End is Only the Beginning

Hello again, another short author's note, I will be posting this in short and unscheduled bursts whenever I feel like I should; like right now, I felt you readers should get the first chapter, at least.

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Chapter 1: The End is Only the Beginning

It feels like an entire lifetime and then some before Matsuda awakes. His sleep was almost blissful though he couldn't remember why. It may have been because it reminded him of his childhood in a weird way; times when he used to fall asleep somewhere with no worries and wake up in his warm bed. A fond time when Matsuda felt safe at home with his parents and not having to worry about a madman on the loose who could kill people by knowing someone's name and face. When Matsuda eventually comes to, it takes a few beats of silence before he's fully conscious. The realization hits him and his eyes shoot wide open. He then attempts to sit up rather quickly.

"Ahh," he cries out and grits his teeth.

Sitting up turns out to not be the best idea. He fell back down onto the bed as soon as he applied pressure down on his arms. Matsuda then takes more time to recuperate his thoughts into something more understandable before he tries again. His eyes wander down to his arms and bare chest. He blushes when he sees that he's not wearing a shirt or pants. Thankfully, he has his boxers. In place of clothes are bandages covering his body.

He sits up again after he gathers more determination and does so with success. There is only a minuscule feeling of pain but it's nothing he can't handle. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and his feet brush against the tile floor which results in a violent shiver to rack his body. Matsuda rubs his hands up and down over his bandages as he looks for clothes. The air in the room is surprisingly cold. He finds his clothes folded neatly on a chair across the room.

While he stares at the line chairs set against the plain vanilla walls, he can't help but look back at the bed he's sitting on. It's not exactly a hospital bed and there isn't any form of medical objects around the room. There's also a faint smell that's not quite rubbing alcohol but another form of liquor. There goes the theory that he was rushed to a hospital before dying. He takes another deep breath and pushes himself up to stand. He's thankful to discover that his legs did not get the worse of the impact.

He limps over to the chair to grab his clothes and—after a few weak attempts—manages to dress without taking off his bandages. When he finishes buttoning up his clean white shirt and straightens out the creases, he takes in more of the room. It's extremely plain and there's not much to observe. It wouldn't surprise him it's a makeshift hospital room after all. The longer he dwells on the thought of the room, it dawns on him that he really wants to know the identity of who took care of him and put him in this room, to begin with. There are such big gaps in his memory that he wants someone to help fill.

As if on cue, the door opens. The sound of squeaking hinges pulls Matsuda to face the door. When the person who opens the door sees that Matsuda isn't in bed, they scan the room and visibly relax when they spot him. The person gives a nervous smile and steps inside. Matsuda spots tension in the shoulders of the newcomer and wonders if the other is scared. It makes Matsuda confused since the other man is the taller of the two and clearly uninjured. The other takes a hand and pushes a strand of his almost shoulder-length, brown hair back behind his ear to avoid it falling into his face.

"You're awake," he says with a small smile. Matsuda notices he's speaking English. He internally cringes. He's not the best at the language but he can manage all sorts of conversations well. "I will go tell my… uh… boss. I will be back."

With that, he abruptly turns to leave.

"Hey, wait," cries Matsuda as he jogs over to the mysterious man while he tries to make a speedy exit. Turns out, jogging is a lot harder than he thought and just hobbles closer to the door instead before it closes.

The man heard him and stops to watch Matsuda struggle to get to the door. When he gets close enough to talk with the man, he realizes he didn't know what to start with. There's so much he wants to say and ask but he isn't sure which one to use. Then again, he is going to get his boss.

"What is your name?" Matsuda asks as he shifts his weight uncomfortably.

"It's Toris," answers the man, just as equally uncomfortable and slightly confused.

With Matsuda's question answered, Toris turns and leaves.

_That's a weird name. _

For a moment he wonders what it can mean. It certainly isn't a typical American or English name nor is it Japanese. He can tell that Toris's English is not perfect either since an accent befell the man's quaint voice. Did this mean he isn't in Japan anymore? Where could he be if he isn't in Japan, America, or England? That accent isn't one he recognizes either. Matsuda sighs and sits down on the bed. All of this is starting to hurt his head.

He's a detective but nothing compared to the brains of Light or Ryuzaki. On the topic of the Task Force, his mind wanders and accumulates even more questions and worries. The door opens again and he stands—only wincing slightly—to greet whoever decided to house him. The people there are Toris and, supposedly, his boss.

If Matsuda was bent out of shape over the height issue with Toris then he should be terrified of Toris's boss. The brunet stood behind a tall silver-haired male and is nearly completely hidden by his shadow.

"It is nice you are awake. Toris, you may go now," the man says as he smiles and waves off his underling. The smile seems nice and innocent but something about it struck a weird chord with Matsuda. He can't tell what it is exactly but something is off.

"My name is Ivan," says the man as he extends his large hand to Matsuda. He accepts it as he walks over to him and nearly has his entire hand engulfed in the giant palm. Matsuda notices that Ivan's English isn't the best either and picks up on his accent almost immediately. He's Russian; his name helps Matsuda partially figure it out.

"Hello, my name is Matsui Taro. Nice to meet you," Matsuda says in a convincing matter. In the end, Matsuda chooses to use his fake name. After all, Kira is still loose and everyone is a suspect. Without the Task Force, he has to be extra careful; even if he probably isn't in Japan anymore.

Ivan nods and uses his hand to gesture for him to follow down the hallway.

While they walk down the hallway, Matsuda notices how plain the entire building is. Aside from the occasional painting and portrait, the walls are practically bare. The walls climb up higher than Matsuda thinks is possible and only enforces how empty the place feels. Matsuda has to take a moment to take deep breaths and relax his pained muscles when Ivan leads him to their destination. The walk was long and he greatly appreciates the stop.

The room they stop in is nice or that's how Matsuda describes it. It reminds him of a palace because of the elegant undertones and large windows which allows golden sunlight to enter. The color schemes only complement each other with rich reds and goldcrests. The room even has an expensive bar to the side of the room and a large fireplace with half-alive embers. Matsuda is sure that he can never afford something like this in his entire life.

Behind the bar, Ivan pulls out two glasses for himself and Matsuda and pours a small serving of vodka.

Matsuda quickly looks to the arching windows that show what he assumes to be the noon sun and then down at the glass that was slide over to him. Matsuda just woke up and he isn't sure if strong alcohol would be good for him. The last time he got drunk is a black blur. Besides, not too long ago he faked being intoxicated, which almost killed him. Maybe it did kill him and this is Heaven. Is God Russian? Do they even serve vodka in Heaven?

After his slight, internal crisis, he lightly pushes the glass away. "No, thank you. I do not like to drink that much."

"No," Ivan asks as he downs his own with one gulp. Matsuda watches with newfound admiration. It's similar to watching Ryuzaki work without sleeping for days or how he consumes copious amounts of sugary foods in an unhealthy diet.

Ivan looks to Matsuda again and asks if he's sure about his drink. Matsuda nods and lets him have his drink. The pair then moves to a lavish couch and relaxes on the furniture. This way, they're closer to the fireplace and Matsuda can observe it more closely. The mantle calls his attention as it's seemingly carved from the finest marble and several little knick-knacks are placed above it with hidden meaning. Matsuda looks around and even though the house is beautiful and somehow homey, he feels a longing for the old Eastern style of his homeland.

"You must have a lot of questions, so do I. Would you like to start," asks Ivan as he gets more comfortable in the plush of the dark red couch.

Matsuda nods and returns the constant smile of the Russian. Finally, he is finally going to get some answers.


End file.
